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POESY AND THE POET.
THE fairy queen Cophetua
Went out one summer day ;
She saw a little beggar lad
Asleep upon the way.
His feet were torn with many thorns,
His hands like dead hands lay,
And here and there across his cheek
A drowsy tear did stray.
The fairy queen Cophetua,
She knelt beside his head,
And raised it on her royal lap
As on a mossy bed.
She felt a breath of deep repose
Steal through his troubled sleep ;
And then the queen Cophetua
Did softly 'plain and weep :
